


your heart taking root

by ohmcgee



Series: ohmcgee's mallverse [65]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, M/M, Porn with Feelings, bottom!bruce
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 17:10:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14597730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: “I was on my way out of town. Thought I’d stop by and say...you know.”





	your heart taking root

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue: Bruce

Harvey’s trunk was full of duct-taped boxes and garbage bags stuffed with clothes. The backseat was stacked so high with junk that he could barely see out the rearview mirror. Harvey had his route planned out, a job lined up, and an apartment waiting for him in San Francisco. This was good. This was the right decision. He needed to get away, start fresh. This was what he needed to do.

He reached out his window to adjust the side mirror, then pulled out onto the busy street.

This was what he needed to do.

  


: : :

  


Bruce sat in his office in front of his laptop, rubbing at the stubble on his jaw as he tried to figure out how to respond to an email without sounding like a condescending prick this time -- Delia’s words, not his own. Damian was at lacrosse practice and Alfred had wrapped up for the day and gone home. Every now and then Titus would mope down the hall and whimper at Damian’s door, but other than that, the house was quiet.

A year or so ago, if you’d asked, Bruce would’ve told you he preferred the quiet. Now, he understood the phrase “silence is deafening” more than he’d like. He’d gotten used to Jason blaring hair bands in the kitchen as he baked, to Prince and Titus barking and chasing each other around the house, to the constant strum of Harvey’s guitar as he searched for the perfect chord. So much was different now and Bruce knew he would adapt, he always did. Only, this time it felt different. It felt less like adapting to change and more like, well, like he’d fucked up his one shot at happiness. Sure, he had money. He owned his own company. He had a nice house, a nice car, a vacation home in Colorado and a timeshare in Fiji. Bruce knew that most people would kill to live the kind of life he led, just like he knew they would laugh in his face if he told them how truly useless it all was if you didn’t have anyone to share it with.

He was getting older. No. He was getting _old._ He was starting to realize a lot of things, but most specifically, Bruce was realizing that he didn’t want to be alone. He wanted someone to wake up next to, someone to nag him about leaving his wet towels on the floor. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone skiing in Breckenridge or even went on vacation at all. There didn’t seem to be much point in going alone.

Bruce sighed and rested his elbows on his desk, putting his head in his hands. Everything was a mess. He missed Jay, even though he knew this was better for the both of them. He missed the family that Jay had let him be a part of. He even missed Roy and Tim -- sometimes. He was still pretty sure Roy Harper had stolen his Keurig the last time he was there. 

Outside, Bruce heard a car door shut and checked his watch. It seemed a bit early for Damian to be dropped off, but it was the first practice of the season, so maybe they just went over the basics and got out earlier than expected. He heard the front door shut and Titus jumped up from his place at Bruce’s feet and sprinted down the stairs to greet him. A few moments later, Bruce heard Damian’s footsteps on the stairs and his shoes shuffling down the hallway, despite how many times Bruce had asked him to pick his feet up when he walked across the hardwood floors.

“You know, he’s been waiting at your door for the last --” Bruce began, his words getting stuck somewhere between his tongue and his throat when Harvey moved into the doorway, scratching Titus behind the ear.

“Hey, Bruce.”

  


: : :

  


Harvey leaned in the doorway and gave Bruce an easy smile, but Bruce knew him well enough to see the guilt and the pain beneath it.

“You look like shit.”

Bruce shut the lid to his laptop. He knew exactly what he looked like. Bags under his eyes from not sleeping, more wrinkles than he had six weeks ago. “I can’t imagine why.”

For a few moments, Harvey didn’t say anything, just kept petting the dog until Titus got bored and trotted downstairs for food.

“I was just,” Harvey said, walking into the room and picking up one of the paperweights Damian had given him last Father’s Day off the desk. “I was on my way out of town. Thought I’d stop by and say...you know.”

“Ah,” Bruce leaned back in his chair, attempting to hide his shaking hands behind his head. “Where are you headed this time?”

“Oh, uh,” Harvey said, putting the ceramic bird back down on his desk. “California? San Francisco.”

A sudden, aching pain started to spread through Bruce’s chest, so sharp and bright he almost cried out. He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t lose him. Not again. Not after Jason. Not after everything. He wouldn’t survive it. He wanted to tell Harvey that. He wanted to tell him everything, but he couldn’t make his mouth form the words. He felt frozen. Helpless.

“I know you’re mad,” Harvey said, running his fingers along the edge of Bruce’s desk. “You’ve got every right to be. I know that...things got sideways. And I’m sorry for that.” Harvey slowly made his way around Bruce’s desk and ran his fingers through his hair nervously, sighing. “I know that I shouldn’t have come here, but I just. I can’t leave without --”

Bruce said _fuck it_  before Harvey could finish his sentence _,_ stood from his chair and framed Harvey’s face with hands. “Shut up,” he murmured and brought their mouths together. If Harvey was really leaving, if this was really the last time he was going to see him, he was going to do this. He kept his hands on Harvey’s face, thumbs lined up with Harvey’s cheekbones and kissed him, deep and desperate. He felt Harvey’s hand tighten in the front of his shirt as he kissed him back with a hunger that only matched Bruce’s. Harvey tasted like black coffee and cigarettes and Bruce drank him down, inhaled the scent of him, traced every line and scar and blemish on Harvey’s face, kissed him like it was the first time and the last.

Harvey pulled away from him abruptly, eyes dark and hot with want, but put his hand up between them and shook his head.

“Harv --”

“Just,” Harvey said, trying to find his breath. “Just...god damn it. Just give me a minute.”

Bruce recognized the panic in his voice and the shortness of breath and reached down, taking his hand. “Harvey,” he said, brushing his thumb back and forth across the back of Harvey’s hand. “You don’t have to be scared of me. Of this.”

Harvey looked up at him and it hit Bruce like a kick to the gut. He knew that look. That was the look Harvey got before he ran.

  


: : :

  
“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

He didn’t. Bruce didn’t have any _idea_ what he’d be getting himself into. _Again._ He never fucking learned. Harvey was sick. Harvey was fucking _weak._ He really needed Bruce to be the strong one here. He needed Bruce to realize that being with him was never going to bring him anything but pain and chaos.

He should have never come here.

“I love you,” Bruce said, bringing Harvey’s hand to his mouth and kissing the ugly scar right below his knuckles. God, Harvey loved to hear him say that and _God,_ it fucking hurt.

“No. You can’t --”

“I _love_ you,” Bruce said again, squeezing his hand as he stared into his eyes. “And you feel the same, Harvey. Don’t you?”

Harvey’s chest felt like it was being torn open, like Bruce was reaching inside and pulling things out of him that were far too fragile to be played around with.

“You fucking idiot,” he said, grabbing a fistful of Bruce’s shirt. “You know the answer to that. You’ve always known.”

Bruce leaned down and pressed his forehead to Harvey’s. “Maybe,” he said. “But I think I want to hear you say it, just to be sure.”

Harvey kissed him again instead. If he had to endure the intensity of Bruce’s gaze a moment longer Harvey was afraid he was going to unravel right there. He knew he hadn’t said it enough. He knew that the way he acted sometimes, the things he said and did, might’ve made it seem like he didn’t care about Bruce at all, and Christ, he fucking _hated_ himself for that. He hated that Bruce had to spend even a second of his life uncertain about how important he was to him. Harvey hated it _so much_ , but now -- now there was a voice in his head reminding him that that wasn’t all he did. He loved so much too.

He loved Bruce. He always had. Sometimes, Harvey thought he had been in love with Bruce before he’d ever even met him. No one else had ever held a candle.

“Bruce,” he said, letting out a small, exhausted laugh before looking up at him. Harvey knew Bruce could see everything he felt on his face. He felt naked, exposed. He felt like he was being reborn as something new. Maybe even something better. “You’re _it._ You -- you’re all I want, Bruce. From now ‘til fuckin’ forever. I’m a fucking idiot, but I love you so goddamn much I can’t handle it sometimes. I just. I just don’t --”

Thankfully, Bruce grabbed Harvey's face and kissed him again before he could keep rambling, which was good because Harvey was starting to feel like his words were getting away from him.

“I know,” Bruce murmured against his jaw as he peppered kisses there, “that we have things that we need to discuss. But can it wait,” he kissed his way back to Harvey’s mouth, then looked him in the eye, “until after you take me to bed?”

Harvey figured he must have answered because shortly after that they were in Bruce’s room and Bruce was naked and sprawled out on his bed as Harvey searched for the lube in the bedside drawer. When he flipped the cap and squirted some onto his fingers, Harvey realized his hands were shaking, which was kind of ridiculous. It wasn’t like they hadn’t done this before. Harvey’d had Bruce in nearly every major metropolitan city and half the countries in Europe, but something about this time felt different than the rest.

Harvey tried to shake the nerves and moved between Bruce’s sprawled out thighs, lifting one of Bruce’s legs over his shoulder before reaching down and rubbing a lube-slicked finger over Bruce’s hole.

“You’re gorgeous, you know, ” He murmured, kissing the inside of Bruce’s knee as he pushed at the tight ring of muscles with the tip of one finger, watching Bruce’s eyes flutter as he relaxed for him and took it. “So fucking gorgeous, baby.”

Harvey added another and another finger without hesitation, sighing at the ease at which Bruce’s body still opened up for him, kissing and biting his calf and the inside of his thigh until Bruce let out a breathy _Harvey,_ and Harvey knew he was ready.

Harvey sat back, slicking himself up with a little more lube, then crawled up Bruce’s body, kissing the long column of his throat, the line of his jaw, the corner of his mouth.

“Harvey,” Bruce said again, breathless and impatient, and Harvey simply gripped him under his hips and pushed into him, stealing the air out of Bruce’s lungs.

“Christ,” Harvey whispered against Bruce’s collarbone. “ _Bruce_.”

It was almost too much again. The heat of Bruce’s body was overwhelming. He was so tight, so deliciously fucking tight, and Harvey just wanted to _consume_ . He wanted to taste every part of Bruce, wanted to make him scream his name until he lost his voice, wanted to claim every inch of his body until everyone knew that Bruce was _his_.

“Stay with me,” Bruce said, brushing sweaty tendrils of curls away from Harvey’s temple. Harvey heard the concern in his tone and pulled back, afraid he had gone too far. That he’d been too much, too soon.  

“Don’t stop,” Bruce scowled, pinching his side, and it made Harvey laugh. “Just stay with me. Stay right here.”

“Yeah,” Harvey said, blinking away the thoughts that wanted to take him away from Bruce. He pulled back, sliding his hands up and down Bruce’s strong, thick thighs, then sank back into him, drawing an uncharacteristic moan from Bruce’s generally tight-lipped mouth. Harvey figured that they’d both needed this for so long that neither of them were going to last as long as they’d like, so he picked up his pace, eager to see Bruce’s gorgeous fucking face when he came for him.

“Yeah,” he murmured again, fingers digging into the meat of Bruce’s thighs, fucking into him so hard a line of sweat had begun to bead up around his hairline. “With you.”

Bruce fisted one hand in the sheets and reached up with the other to cup the back of Harvey’s neck, his gaze so intense Harvey almost felt like he should look away, like he didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of something so raw and unguarded. “Always.”

Harvey quickened his pace, closing his eyes and listening to the sound of Bruce’s hard, heavy breathing, the way their sweat-slick skin slapped together each time Harvey pounded into him. He got his hand around Bruce’s cock and stroked him to the same rhythm, both of them too close to back off now. Bruce’s nails dug into the back of his neck and sweat dripped from the tip of Harvey’s nose onto Bruce’s chest as their bodies moved together like they were made to do nothing else.

“Yeah,” Harvey panted. “Forever.”

“Harvey,” Bruce gasped, a naked vulnerability on his face that Harvey didn’t think he’d ever seen before. 

“I love you, Bruce,” Harvey said softly, reaching down to cup Bruce’s cheek in his hand, and Bruce said his name again, said it with such reverence that it felt like fucking blasphemy, his body arching off the bed and tightening around Harvey like a vice as he came for him. Harvey bent Bruce nearly in half so he could lean in and kiss him open-mouthed, fucking the tight clench of Bruce’s body until his own lit up with pleasure and he gave into it, spilling hot and hard into Bruce, burying his cry of release in the crook of his neck.

They barely even moved afterward. Bruce had just leaned over and grabbed Harvey’s shirt off the floor to clean up with, then laid back and let Harvey drape over him. They used to lay like that all the time, back when they were younger, thinner, and more flexible, but it still worked. They still fit together like two pieces of a puzzle that had just needed a little nudge to click into place.

Harvey dug his chin into Bruce’s shoulder and tugged on a patch of dark hair on his chest. “You know there’s gray in here.”

“Mm,” Bruce said, eyes closed. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m old,” he said and Harvey laughed and poked him in the ribs.

“Guess what,” Bruce turned to face him. “So are you.”

“Lies,” Harvey said. “Evil, evil lies. I’ll be twenty-two forever.”

Bruce snorted, then reached out and plucked a hair from Harvey’s head.

“Ow, son of a bitch!”

Bruce grinned and held the single strand of gray hair in front of Harvey’s face.

“Oh, I hate you,” Harvey sighed and fell back on the pillows as Bruce laughed at him.

For a long time, they just laid there, breathing each other in, basking in the wholeness of being together. Occasionally, Harvey felt Bruce’s finger rubbing up and down his thigh, and every now and then Harvey would reach down and curl his fingers around Bruce’s and just hold them, just to remind himself that he could.

“Hey,” Harvey said, looking over Bruce’s shoulder at the stack of books on the table. He recognized at least one of them from the bookcase in John’s office. “What are those for?”

Bruce twisted around to see what he was looking at, then turned back to him.

“I bought them the day after you --” He swallowed. “I should have bought them a long time ago. You should have _told_ me what you were really struggling with, that way I could’ve --”

“I know,” Harvey said, tangling their fingers together again. “I messed up. I know.”

“Stop,” Bruce said, leaning in to press his lips to Harvey’s forehead. “You did what you could.”

Harvey sighed and pressed his face into Bruce’s chest. He felt Bruce push his fingers into his hair, felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

“Stay,” Bruce said on an exhale, so quiet Harvey wasn’t even sure Bruce wanted him to hear.

Harvey looked up at him, looked into those gorgeous blue eyes like they could give him the answers and reassurance he needed. That he wasn't too much. That he wasn't going to fuck this up again. “Are you sure?”

Bruce cupped his face and kissed him, soft and sweet. “Stay,” he murmured against Harvey’s lips.

Harvey closed his eyes and pressed their foreheads together. He knew his answer before Bruce had even asked. And it scared the shit out of him, it did. He had never been more fucking terrified. But deep down, Harvey knew. This was always where they were going to end up.

“Okay,” he breathed out, opening his eyes in time to see Bruce smile, perfect and all for him. “Okay."


End file.
